Space Odyssey: Stanley Kubrick, Arthur C. Clarke, and the Making of a Masterpiece

by Michael Benson

The definitive story of the making of 2001: A Space Odyssey, acclaimed today as one of the greatest films ever made, and of director Stanley Kubrick and writer Arthur C. Clarke—“a tremendous explication of a tremendous film….Breathtaking” (TheWashington Post).Fifty years ago a strikingly original film had its premiere. Still acclaimed as one of the most remarkable and important motion pictures ever made, 2001: A Space Odyssey depicted the first contacts between humanity and extraterrestrial intelligence. The movie was the product of a singular collaboration between Stanley Kubrick and science fiction visionary Arthur C. Clarke. Fresh off the success of his cold war satire Dr. Strangelove, Kubrick wanted to make the first truly first-rate science fiction film. Drawing from Clarke’s ideas and with one of the author’s short stories as the initial inspiration, their bold vision benefited from pioneering special effects that still look extraordinary today, even in an age of computer-generated images. In Space Odyssey, author, artist, and award-winning filmmaker Michael Benson “delivers expert inside stuff” (San Francisco Chronicle) from his extensive research of Kubrick’s and Clarke’s archives. He has had the cooperation of Kubrick’s widow, Christiane, and interviewed most of the key people still alive who worked on the film. Drawing also from other previously unpublished interviews, Space Odyssey provides a 360-degree view of the film from its genesis to its legacy, including many previously untold stories. And it features dozens of photos from the making of the film, most never previously published. “At last! The dense, intense, detailed, and authoritative saga of the making of the greatest motion picture I’ve ever seen…Michael Benson has done the Cosmos a great service” (Academy Award-winning actor Tom Hanks).

Genres: Nonfiction, Film, History, Media Tie In, Biography, Science, Pop Culture

513 pages, Kindle Edition

First published April 3, 2018

About the author

Michael Benson is a journalist and maker of documentary films, including the award-winning Predictions of Fire (1995). His work has been published in the New York Times, the New Yorker, and Smithsonian, among other publications, and he has been a television (CNN) and radio (NPR) reporter. He is also the author of the Abrams bestseller Beyond: Visions of the Interplanetary Probes. He lives in New York City.

Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name. See this thread for more information.

Reviews

[Gerhard · Rating 5 out of 5]

Okay, do not stop reading this when you start it, or balk at the initial length. My Kindle version clocks in at 723 pages, but the actual text is only 456 pages. The remaining 200-odd are photos, acknowledgements, and a comprehensive index. Still, nearly 500 pages about the making of a single movie?

Well, not any movie, of course. We are talking about what still remains, after 50 years, an unparalleled achievement in the fusion of science and art through the medium of film. That might sound incredibly pretentious, but Michael Benson’s summation of the impact of 2001 at the end of the book drives this point home.

What’s more, Kubrick and Clarke effectively turned the production of 2001 into a think-tank, involving over 40 companies in coming up with credible concepts, technologies, and extrapolations about the future (as it was perceived then). In addition, filmed entirely in a pre-digital era, everything about 2001 was bespoke.

So the tech and skills that came out of this went on to form the foundation of the modern SFX movie era. Also, it is clear that modern SF masters like George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, James Cameron, and Christopher Nolan all point to 2001 as a lodestone in their own careers.

Of course, this is a very human story, and at the heart is the collaboration, and conflict, between two very different personalities. The fact that the genial Clarke was not the only one to be manipulated by the often sadistic Kubrick seems to indicate that the main problem was the director himself. Is it in the nature of genius itself that such incredibly-gifted people have to be douchebags?

Yes, it is a minefield and a tightrope, and Benson manages to tell the warts-and-all story behind the production by being scrupulously even-handed and rigorous to a fault. All rumours are investigated and, if possible, Benson spoke to the sources themselves, sometimes decades later, to get a fresh perspective.

In an age where ‘making of’ doccies and blogs are commonplace, we tend to remain blasé about movie magic. Not so with 2001, where the epic struggle to realise Kubrick’s ideas on the Cinerama screen is an incredible story of tenacity, sheer bloody mindedness, determination, sweat, tears, and inspiration.

[Matt (Fully supports developing sentient AGI) · Rating 4 out of 5]

I know everything about the making of 2001 now, AMA. At the least I know enough to be really annoying next time I watch this with a willing victim.

I did gain a greater appreciation of the collaborative work between Stanley Kubrick and Sir Arthur C. Clarke. Clarke really got the shaft financially gaining nothing as a percentage of the film's success - Apparently that was simply not done at the time. At least Clarke enjoyed a nice return on the bestselling version of the book and a general acceleration in the trajectory of his fame. 2001 earned Kubrick the only Oscar of his career for Visual Effects which was really mostly the work of Douglas Trumbull.

If I didn't listen to this as an audiobook, I'm not sure I could have finished. Michael Benson is exhaustively detailed about every aspect of making this film. From the choreography practice of the Dawn of Man sequence to the making of almost every scene ultimately cut from the film. Want to know how every special effect in the film was achieved? You are in luck. Read this book. Maybe it's appropriate the ridiculous amount of work in writing this book parallels the meticulous detail and enormous work necessary to complete this masterpiece.

[George Kaslov · Rating 5 out of 5]

How to watch 2001: A Space Odyssey

1) On first viewing be visually astonished, but also bored and confused with the plot.

2) Read the book by Arthur C. Clarke, which I only now found out was more of a collaborative effort between the two.

3) On second viewing, watch it on double speed and understand the plot.

4) Read this book.

5) On third viewing just enjoy the movie.

6) Bother everyone you can tie to a chair about this movies trivia.

This instruction manual was only in half jest... I watched it only once on double speed. All jokes aside this book was brilliant. It starts of from Kubrick's success of Doctor Strangelove and his interest in making his next movie be the first great SF movie ever and it ends with its premiere and reception with a brief epilogue into the movies legacy.

This might be the best book on the making of this movie. The people, the drama, the special effects, everything is here. If you love ether the book or the movie, or better both this book is a must read.

[Neil R. Coulter · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sometimes when I hear about a new book, I impulsively go to the public library's website and put a hold on it; I worry that otherwise, I might forget all about it in the midst of my endless and ever-growing to-read list (which I probably would; though my impulsiveness really wreaks havoc on any sense of logic in my reading list). As a big fan of 2001: A Space Odyssey, then, when I heard about Michael Benson's new book about the making of the film, I was excited to find that it was already in the library's collection, and a copy was soon on its way to me.

The book itself is beautiful. It's a hefty tome for being about just one film, and the dustjacket is a classic shot from the film, stunningly printed on metallic red paper, with embossed title and author text. Very nicely done!

What's inside the book is fascinating. Benson limits his scope to only the time of making 2001. There are very few flashbacks to earlier Kubrick projects, and only a bit at the end about the ongoing critical and audience reception of 2001. I actually would have preferred more tangents back and forth through the lives of Kubrick and Clarke, but I respect Benson's control in this narrow focus.

The largest sections of the book are about the development of the project, and the production. Other phases of the film pass by a little bit quicker, but everything is well-documented, supported by willing assistance from Kubrick's widow, Christiane, and many of his close collaborators on the film. This won't be the last book about Kubrick or 2001, but it's a very thorough and enjoyable one.

As I read, in addition to being fascinated at the behind-the-scenes technical details, I was also, of course, intrigued by Kubrick himself. In some ways--his perfectionism, his self-doubt, his intense desire for something better than simply "average," his constant hunger for mastery of knowledge--I feel a resonance and kinship with him. As a fellow bibliophile, I also felt his pain when he packed up "books precious to the director, including ones he'd had since childhood" for shipment to the UK for 2001's filming--and then, "Within a month or so, it became clear that all of Kubrick's most precious books had been lost in transit" (104-105).

In other ways, though, I found Kubrick difficult and frustrating. That's partly because of how Benson regards him throughout the book, too. Benson seems too often willing to overlook Kubrick's faults. Kubrick was, of course, a genius, but he was also occasionally cruel to his closest friends. "As Kubrick had predicted," Benson writes, "everything came out all right in the end" (435). I'm not satisfied with that ends-justifies-the-means flippancy. Sure, the film ended up being a masterpiece, and many of the people associated with Kubrick (and sometimes treated awfully by him) ended up doing very well because of their association with him. But surely we can still objectively say that Kubrick was sometimes completely wrong, and genius or not, it's inexcusable. (I'm not saying anything is unforgiveable, of course; but we're not led to believe that Kubrick apologized to those he'd hurt. Instead, it's often those people who took the initiative to go back to Kubrick and patch up broken friendships.)

It's sad, reading through this book, to see how vital and vibrant Kubrick and Clarke's working friendship was in the early stages of 2001's development, but then to watch Clarke gradually disappear into the background as Kubrick ensures his own sole ownership and claim to the film. Again, at the end it's Clarke who modifies his perspective to graciously accommodate Kubrick. I would have preferred to see Kubrick returning such gestures with genuine concern.

Space Odyssey includes a very few photos, but I would have loved to see many more. However, the book is a wonderful read for 2001 fans and film buffs. It's amazing to be granted such a window into the creative process of a masterpiece. Like any book about the film should, this one made me want to watch 2001 again immediately.

[Ms.pegasus · Rating 5 out of 5]

It may surprise many readers that 2001: A Space Odyssey initially had a poor critical reception. During the premier, many attendees left at the intermission. Pauline Kael, Stanley Kauffmann and Andrew Sarris, eminent critics of the time, panned it. Author Michael Benson observes: “...how 2001 was received largely depended on which side of this late-sixties generational divide the audience fell.” (p.424) That conclusion is substantiated by Roger Ebert's glowing review written on April 12, 1968 (Ebert was 26 years old at the time). Ebert recognized that the pacing, ambiguity of narrative and minimal dialogue were all conscious choices by Kubrick in the service of a powerful and original artistic vision.

Kubrick was exceptionally secretive during production. This was not only due to the many technical innovations his team was pioneering. He weathered extreme pressure from studio executives chafing over the extensive production delays and cost overruns. Kubrick seemed to understand that his project, which was a constantly shifting work-in-progress from day one of shooting to the final edit was too innovative to brook interference. His instincts were validated by the result, although it required a final frenzied round of edits to get there.

Benson's book chronicles the making of the film from inception to release. It is extensively researched and accompanied by both a index and a list of major associates who helped Kubrick transform his vision into reality. Kubrick recruited both accomplished professionals and promising novices to his team. Kubrick's acumen was supplemented by serendipity. Mike Wilson was a close associate of Arthur C. Clarke. Partying in London, he was privy to bits of the project through Clarke. He mentioned to the beat poet John Esam that Kubrick was toying with the idea of consulting a mime. Esam suggested Dan Richter. Richter transformed the men-in-ape-suits ensemble into convincing australopithecines by studying the motions and expressions of primates at the zoo. Richter played the sentient ape Moonwatcher in the “Dawn” scene and choreographed the life-like gestures of the dancers who donned the extremely uncomfortable costumes and endured seemingly endless takes under the glare of hot lights.

The book opens with Kubrick and Clarke's collaboration and details their initial contract and financial arrangement. The original idea was deceptively simple. Clarke would pen a novel and Kubrick's film would be based on the novel. The novel would not be published until the film was completed. Alternative story lines were being considered and rejected well into production. One point on which they agreed was changing the space capsule's destination from Jupiter to Saturn. The science seemed right. Unfortunately, after months of work by the visual effects team, a convincing Saturn simply wasn't possible and Kubrick was forced to retreat to the original destination of Jupiter.

The achievement of particular special effects forms a major part of the book. Those sections will appeal to industry insiders and photography buffs. These technical innovations are explained with painstaking detail. Unfortunately, they were still beyond my comprehension. The parts of the narrative I enjoyed the most followed the process of transforming ideas expressed verbally into the language of film.

The amount of film that ended up on the cutting room floor was astonishing. In the “Dawn” scene Kubrick envisioned family groups of australopithecines including suckling babies. Baby chimps were obtained on loan and trained. Make-up was applied to their faces and they had to be trained not to lick the make-up off. Costumes were engineered with breasts filled with milk that the chimps could suckle. Suddenly, Kubrick had a new inspiration on the day of the shoot. He wanted to film the performers jumping around, which caused the milk to separate and then squirt out of the nipples. Filming stopped. The costumes had to be cleaned and reloaded with milk. The nursing chimps were finally filmed and then the whole scene was deemed extraneous and cut. (p.308) The amount of trial and error that went into making this film was yet another surprise to me.

This book is so dense with material that it is best viewed as a reference work. Read through it. Then, watch the movie again, preferably with someone who knows about film. This is probably the closest you will ever get to a “behind the scenes” look at how a movie gets made.

NOTES:
Here is Roger Ebert's review: https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/20...

[Kamakana · Rating 4 out of 5]

181112: exactly as promised: this is the 'making of' and very little outside the focus. long but fast read. some brief bios, some money, some ambition, some great science/science fiction advisor/author, some artistic serendipity, some genius memory, some intense ongoing creation... a lot of work. years and years. not much before creation, kubrick already somewhat known quantity, clarke esteemed, 'really good sf film' ambition, realism leading to art-film abstraction. this must be read having seen film, some ideas impossible to write. little after release...

2001 is my absolute favorite film and knowing how it is made does not diminish pleasure. reading book and seeing film together best experience. but then i like most of kubrick's work, most of clarke's, most any sf. seen the film i don't know how many times read the book 6 times. grew up with it, that primitive era, even saw it first as a full screen revival at u when i was something like nine, though of course kids who were not even born in 2001 watch it now. it has not dated. unfortunately usually only seen on small flatscreens. visual, fantastic, artistic, philosophical. for me there is in this ‘making of’ a little too much gossip as narrative, not enough technical descriptions, not much at all critical analysis, but then this is a book for film creation and not film appreciation. so, the rec is to see the kubrick film, read the clarke book.... everything else is just everything else...

more
2001: A Space Odyssey
The Making of Kubrick's 2001
2001: A Space Odyssey
The Lost Worlds of 2001
The Making of Stanley Kubrick’s '2001: A Space Odyssey'

[Leah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Caution: Geniuses at Work

This year marks the 50th anniversary of the release of 2001: A Space Odyssey, the masterpiece science fiction film that grew out of a collaboration between two creative geniuses, Arthur C Clarke and Stanley Kubrick. In this book, Michael Benson tells the story of that collaboration, and of the making of the film, its release and its impact at the time and since.

A couple of years ago, I had the amazing experience of reading Clarke’s book and then immediately watching Kubrick’s film, and discovering how wonderfully they enhance each other. Until then, I hadn’t realised they arose out of a joint venture – I had assumed Clarke had written the book first and then Kubrick had decided to turn it into a film. Benson starts by telling the story of how Kubrick wanted to make the first “really good” science fiction movie and, as research, immersed himself in the SF literature of the day, including reading Clarke’s Childhood’s End. This led him to approach Clarke with a view to them working together. At that stage, the plan was to make a kind of future history of man’s experiences in space. Throughout his book, Benson shows how this initial plan grew and altered stage by stage until it became the book and film that were ultimately released, and gives a fascinating picture of two creative giants working together, mostly in harmony, each inspiring the other so that the end results were greater than either could have achieved alone.

Benson is clearly a huge admirer of the film and of both men, but he’s not so starry-eyed as to be uncritical when it’s deserved. Clarke was struggling financially as the project began, while Kubrick was riding high on the back of the success of his previous film, Dr Strangelove. This meant Kubrick had disproportionate power in the making of the deal between them, and he wasn’t hesitant in making sure the lion’s share of all profits and credit would come his way. He also retained control over every aspect, including when Clarke would be allowed to release the book. Since the making of the film fell years behind schedule, this caused Clarke considerable financial woe. But Benson also shows that the two men managed to survive this kind of friction without it dimming their appreciation of each other’s genius. Benson’s book is a warm-hearted portrayal of both men and it seems to me he tries hard, and succeeds, in giving due credit to both.

The book is an excellently balanced mix of the technical geekery of film-making with the human creativity behind it. Not just Clarke and Kubrick, but all of the major members of the crew come to life, as Benson illustrates their personalities with well-timed and well-told anecdotes about life on the set. The quality of Benson’s writing is first-rate, and I loved that he would break up the more technical side of the story by introducing “voices” for some of the people to whom he introduces us. For example, when a young lad looking for his first break in movie-making goes off to meet Kubrick, Benson tells the story in a kind of Holden Caulfield voice, while the filming of the scene of Kubrick’s little daughter talking to her on-screen daddy is told charmingly, as if from her six-year-old perspective.

Clarke fades a little from the story once his book is more or less written, although the two men continued to consult and communicate throughout the project. But once the filming gets underway, Benson concentrates more on Kubrick and his crew. He shows the innovative techniques they developed as they went along to create not only the special effects but an entire overarching style. Kubrick is shown as demanding, a perfectionist, always pushing a little further than his crew believed they could go until they discovered that they could go further after all. Although he had his faults – a willingness to risk his actors’ and crew’s safety in pursuit of his art, for example – the impression comes through strongly that the people around him admired, respected and even loved him. Benson gives generous praise to each of the other creatives who contributed to the movie, detailing each innovative technique and who was involved in achieving it. As he describes it, it felt to me like an orchestra full of individually brilliant musicians, with Kubrick as the genius conductor melding their talents into a wonderfully harmonious whole.

In the final section, Benson describes the release of the movie, initially panned by all the middle-aged men (and occasionally women) in suits in movie world, from studio chiefs to movie critics. He explains how Kubrick watched audience reaction minute by minute to see what worked and what didn’t, eventually cutting nineteen minutes from the original running time. But he and others also noticed that young people in the audience seemed to “get” it in a way that the movie professionals didn’t at first. Despite the critics, audience figures gave an indication that word of mouth was making the movie a success. Gradually, even the original critics mostly came round, and admitted that on second and third viewing they “got” it too. The film’s success was crowned with a raft of Oscar nominations, though in an extremely competitive year that included Oliver! and The Lion in Winter amongst others, eventually it took only one, rather fittingly for Best Special Visual Effects.

I haven’t even touched on a lot of what is included in this comprehensive book, such as how Kubrick decided on the music for the film, or how the man-apes were conceived and created. The quality of the writing and research together with Benson’s great storytelling ability make this not only informative but a real pleasure to read – as much a masterpiece of its kind as the original film and book are of theirs. Highly recommended.

NB This book was provided for review by the publisher, Simon & Schuster.

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[Williwaw · Rating 5 out of 5]

There isn't a dull moment in Benson's book. It's very well written and the subject is one that's very close to me. In my teen years, I had a near mystical obsession with Kubrick and Clarke's 2001.

What really comes through in this book is the tremendous commitment and risk that everyone undertook to make the film. Kubrick was constantly tinkering and improvising throughout the production. Many important decisions were not made until toward the end of production or even post-production. Significant changes of direction would often occur after tremendous sums of money had been spent on something which would suddenly be abandoned.

Another major theme of the book is the collaborative nature of the production. Sometimes the actors or production staff would make suggestions, and if Kubrick liked the idea, he would use it. One of the more significant examples of this was Gary Lockwood's suggestion that HAL would read the lips of the astronauts while they attempted to conspire against the computer in the air-tight space pod. Also, Dan Richter's contributions (he played the pre-human character, "Moonwatcher") to the Dawn of Man sequence were tremendously significant. These are just two examples among many.

There's much more to say, and I'm sure that others will say it here. 2001 was a truly groundbreaking film, and its influence on the cinema is still apparent today. Perhaps the pacing of the film would not live up to current-day scrutiny, where it's rare that a shot will last more than 5 seconds, but the themes and the iconic imagery of 2001 are now deeply embedded in today's cultural consciousness.

[Stephen Hughes · Rating 5 out of 5]

The best book on filmmaking and filmmakers I’ve ever read, and I’ve read quite a few.

[J.M. Hushour · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Just what do you think you are doing, Dave?"

Since the age of 8, I have probably seen '2001' more than most other movies. I consider it a supreme achievement. I was lucky enough to get to see it on the big screen some years ago when it was re-released with a new print. I react with horror when people say they haven't seen it. I chloroform them and, Plinkett-style, force them to watch it in my creepy, soundproofed basement.
Naturally, I'd be fascinated to read a book about its production. I guess I like Kubrick. I like Arthur C. Clarke. You really get a profounder sense of respect for them--one a cinematic misfit who, while kind of a dick, was unflinching in his determination to make something different, a science fiction film that was actually good; the other a gay science fiction novelist in exile from homophobic England in Sri Lanka. But it's more about "Kube" and Clarke, Dave. True, my favorite bits were how the actual story came together, its iterations and incarnations, but the truly wonderful parts are reading about things like Frank Poole's getting high all the time and coming up with the lip-reading pod bay scene; death-defying helicopter rides to create the Star Gate effects; shit, even how the freaking soundtrack evolved, Dave--it's all so good, and the book is a testament to everyone involved. It is both entertaining and eye-opening. Let your pod bay door open and accept this magisterial monument. That doesn't sound right, does it?

[Joseph F Cowan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Amazing book.

Having met Arthur C Clarke in the late 60's, not long after seeing 2001 for the umpteenth time, I looked forward to reading this book. What happened amazed me. The author presents events, discussing things the way they might have been, and then discussing the final scene or dialog. As each revelation unfolds I found myself recalling each scene vividly, intensely. It was like the film was playing as I read. The parsity of illustration was no bother, I remembered the film and my attendent awe. Great detail not previously annotated in other books. A wonderful history of a pivotal point in cinema.

[Steve · Rating 4 out of 5]

Enjoyed this examination of how the movie was made, a lot!

I’d only recommend to people who loved the movie and have seen it many times (like me) or else I guess major league film buffs.

One great factoid, the little girl who communicates over a video link with her astronaut father Heywood Floyd in the middle section of the movie was Kubrick’s youngest daughter, Vivian.

Actually there are a million great factoids in this extensively researched book.

[Barry Welsh · Rating 5 out of 5]

5 stars. Thoroughly enjoyable

[False · Rating 4 out of 5]

I had to rate this book "really liked" based solely on the amount of research the author put into this subject. At times, it felt like drudgery reading it, much like Keir Dullea endlessly going around Space Station 5's jogging track (which Kubrick later cut.) Nonetheless, it is amazing that between Arthur Clark and Stanley Kubrick, and some very kind, liberal executives at MGM, this movie got made. I kept waiting for the financial hatchet to come down and cannot imagine such an undertaking today when it's all about the bottom dollar, not art. You have to be a creative obsessive to make a work like this. For understanding that drive, most certainly read the book.

In the end, I am most fascinated by Arthur Clarke and his own passions, hiding away in then Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) with his boyfriends and projects. The final words of the book sum up his character quite nicely:

"Arthur C. Clarke died in Columbo on March 19, 2008, of respiratory complications leading to heart failure. He left explicit instructions that no religious rituals of any kind should be performed at his funeral, but a few hours after his death, a gamma ray burst of unprecedented scale reached Earth from a distant galaxy. More than two millions times brighter than the most luminous supernova ever recorded, its energy had taken seven and a half billion years to arrive at the solar system--about half the age of the observable universe. Having traveled through space and time since long before our planet formed, for about thirty seconds this vast cosmic explosion became the most distant object ever seen from Earth with the naked eye. It was the kind of salute even a lifelong atheist might have appreciated." Eat "that," Kubrick.

[James · Rating 5 out of 5]

When's the last time you finished a book and said, This is one of the best books I've ever read? This is one of them: one of the best books about artistic creation ever written and I'm including A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man in that list. In 450 pages, there's not a single extraneous sentence and I've never read anything that suggests Kubrick's method and character in as balanced and believable a fashion. He's always portrayed as the Obsessed Maniac or the Reclusive Genius or the Big Jerk--but here, he's an incredibly intelligent person struggling to articulate an idea. Benson is great on everything: Kubrick and Clarke's relationship, special effects, the story, the release, the impact--there's not a single aspect that Benson has overlooked. I learned so much from this--and I'm a 2001 know-it-all. If you love 2001, buy this book and begin reading it immediately. I wish Congress could compel Benson to write another one on any other of Kubrick's films. I know I'm being hyperbolic, but the book is that good.

[Peter T · Rating 2 out of 5]

The book provides some interesting insights into the making of the film. However, the author's writing style is, quite simply, boring. I struggled finishing the book, but persevered in case there were other nuggets of gold to find.

I find Kubrick very similar to Jobs - a genius and a completely loathsome person at times. Incredibly controlling and able to turn his back on friendships when it suits him to do so. Also one other factor - claiming the inventiveness of others as their own...

[Andrew · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fantastic story of the making of 2001. But more than just a behind the scenes story, this book explores the cultural influence if the movie on art, science and philosophy. I saw 2001 in the movie theater and it blew me away. But there was so much I didn’t know about Arthur C. Clarke and Kubrick and how the movie came to be that I was blown away again. Read it!

[John · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was somewhat afraid after the prologue and first 2 chapters that this book was coming off a bit dry. But once it gets the initial introductions of Kubrick and Clarke out of the way, and settles into the planning and production of the film, this book really shines. One of the best behind the scenes books I’ve read.

[Mark · Rating 2 out of 5]

It’s something of a shame that a film that was worked over so obsessively should be chronicled with relative indifference by someone whose credentials seem lacking. Michael Benson’s profile tells me that he is a writer, filmmaker, and visual artist, with a special interest in deep space, but the book he has written does not suggest any of that, nor of journalistic rigor. He frequently uses words awkwardly, and sometimes flat-out incorrectly, and includes tangents and whole paragraphs that seem out of place at best, and sometimes as if they ought to have no place at all. Benson’s writing is the sort that ostentatiously shows off the research he’s done, as if that’s not to be expected of a serious author of nonfiction. Worse, the vast majority of his sourcing seems to be from interviews, which necessarily means there’s an implicit lack of objectivity. (The other most common sources are letters quoted at length, and diaries and schedules unimaginatively providing chronological sequences.) Benson seems rather credulous, though he at least has the decency to admit it. Very early on, he recounts his asking Arthur C. Clarke who had written the Brain Room scene; Clarke indignantly replies that he did, Benson tells us that he informed Clarke that he believed him despite the distinct Kubrickian feel of the scene, and then reveals to us that he later did in fact find Kubrick to have been the writer of it. Perhaps this is his version of a warning to take Clarke’s interview material with a hearty amount of salt, but if intended as such, it’s just as inexcusable as not providing a warning at all; the journalistically responsible thing would be to insist on verifying all claims through cross-sourcing. (Benson at least once, in the footnotes, makes note of a corroborating source regarding an anecdote, which leaves me to assume that nearly all of the interview material is uncorroborated.)

Perhaps part of the issue when writing a book like this on a film like this is that the target audience is likely to be obsessive and already in possession of a relative wealth of knowledge on the topic, placing the onus on the author to not only unearth new material and new angles on old material but also a unifying theory of what makes these new offerings interesting. Benson is admittedly successful at providing a fair amount of information that was new to me at least, despite my identification as one of those (extremely) obsessive and (reasonably) knowledgeable fans of 2001: A Space Odyssey, but he doesn’t provide a formulated perspective that would allow his book to cohere. He comes off, far more than a filmmaker or writer, as a fan himself, and while obsession and passion can be worthwhile, even desirable, as complements to a point of view, they don’t serve well in lieu of one. Even the brand of fan Benson seems to be is not a particular useful one. He doesn’t seem to have any relationship to the researched facts he lays out, never gives the sense of having given deep thought to the movie or its workings or its making, and doesn’t really seem to fully understand much of what he’s passing on to his readers. (Or if he does, his writing skills are unprepared to demonstrate as much.) He explains several technical details incorrectly or unclearly, despite rather lengthy and artless attempts at explication; he doesn’t pursue obvious points needing more detail, instead leaving them vague; he explains things that would be obvious to any imaginable reader of this book (and which, if they weren’t obvious, would suggest the need for a whole lot of other explanations that aren’t included); he slams events together somewhat abruptly, and transitions from paragraph to paragraph sloppily and clumsily, sometimes making it seem as if time period or setting has changed when in fact it hasn’t.

The one truly apparent example of a coherent theory that Benson is trying to advance is the importance of Arthur C. Clarke to the making of 2001: A Space Odyssey, evidenced most clearly in his choice of subtitle. As it happens, Benson’s text is a terribly unconvincing argument in favor of this, and the fact that Clarke wrote at least one forward for one of Benson’s prior books suggests a serious conflict of interest as far as advancing an amount of credit that seems wholly unearned. (Benson also gives Douglas Trumbull similar treatment, and naturally, they too have collaborated in the past.) The funny thing is, neither Clarke nor Trumbull is in any need of even a reputational burnishing, never mind a rehabilitation. And Clarke, at least, despite Benson’s open acknowledgement that he had a sizable ego, is quoted on multiple contemporaneous occasions as attributing the bulk of the credit to Kubrick, saying “This is really Stanley Kubrick’s movie” and “I would say 2001 reflects about ninety percent on the imagination of Kubrick, about five percent on the genius of the special effects people, and perhaps five percent on my contribution.” Benson “helpfully” speculates as to the reason behind the humility of the final statement, an odd interjection in line with the prods he refers to giving interview subjects at time, in a manner not in keeping with rigorous follow-up or pursuit so much as attempting to align their statements with his own views. (Note also that despite his efforts, Benson’s own narrative undermines his advancement of Clarke’s role, his structure belying the importance of Clarke, who is absent from the narrative for long stretches.)

The odd thing about these efforts is that a straightforwardly-told, well-executed telling of events—even Benson’s own telling, with all its weaknesses—makes plain the valuable contributions of a multitude of immensely talented individuals. Benson seems to be dissuading the curious readership of his imagination that a film is the byproduct of one person’s efforts, but that is of course a straw argument. I wondered frrequently if it reflected his own mistaken placing of Kubrick, at least—if not directors more generally—upon a pedestal; he seems at times stunned by his revelations that—gasp—Kubrick was a fallible being—a human in fact—whose obsessions and intelligence at times clouded his judgement and his treatment of others. It’s the sort of blasé information dressed up as grand revelation that maddens me in biographies and nonfiction, as if the author supposes we are unfamiliar with the fact that the famous are human and that humans have foibles. It’s particularly striking here, because it’s hard to think of an artist more famous for recognizing the limitations of himself and humans more generally; his career was built on exploring the failings of men and their institutions. Trumbull points out that “[h]e was just generally frustrated with the ineptitude of mortal men” and “get rid of error, ambiguity, and misunderstandings,” but Kubrick never lost sight of the fact that he was as mortal as anyone (albeit it to his great chagrin)—a pitch-perfect and perfectly self-aware (and self-mocking) sardonic aside of his following a cutting assessment of the VP of his production companies read, “I know you look forward to these lectures and keep a notebook called The Sacred Words of SK, so I don’t feel so bad about giving them.”

The degree to which the book manages to be redeemed is on the strength of the film itself, a feat of imagination and wonder and sheer interest in ideas that is literally unimaginable in today’s cinematic climate and marketplace; there would neither be the studio money nor the audience demand for large-scale engagement on this level. One finds oneself jealous for days when visual effects required thought put into achieving them, rather than simply a flimsy idea, when spatial continuity was appreciated and maintained and there was meaning behind spectacle. This awareness reflects on the book somewhat, but doesn’t magnify the story significantly; the film will always be able to stand on its own merits well beyond any specifics of context. Similarly, the narrative of the book is frequently downright exciting, even for someone who knows how the movie turns out, even how many of the specific anecdotes turn out, just as the descriptions of details already known, like the use of multiple 16mm projectors to simulate then-nonexistent flat-screen displays and to fill every spacecraft window with moving figures, nevertheless manage to inspire anew. Stories of effects that weren’t ultimately achieved or included sometimes provoke longing for what might have been and sometimes provoke sighs of relief for what was avoided. 2001: A Space Odyssey is not a perfect movie—if only because the idea of perfection in art is a meaningless concept—but it may capture the striving for perfection, and the worthiness of said striving, better than any other, as befits a towering achievement overseen by Kubrick, who, in my favorite quote of his, once said, "I've never been certain whether the moral of the Icarus story should only be, as is generally accepted, 'Don't try to fly too high,' or whether it might also be thought of as, 'Forget the wax and feathers, and do a better job on the wings.'"

[Shrike58 · Rating 4 out of 5]

An exhaustive, and sometimes exhausting, examination of what it took to make the film that set the bar for all future space adventures; besides creating a lot of the tricks and technology that went into making those films. What you read this for is to learn about how Kubrick and Clarke came to have a working relationship, Kubrick's creation of the armature on which to build his film, and the painstaking problem solving that went into making each scene work. It's all very impressive stuff. As for how it makes me feel about Kubrick, you can almost overlook the processes by which he edged contributors out of the lime light, so that the movie was his personal achievement; that no one worked harder on this film almost makes it seem just.

[Ian Casey · Rating 5 out of 5]

On its 50th anniversary, is there anything remaining to be said about 2001: A Space Odyssey, being as it is one of the acknowledged greatest films ever? Well, apparently there's at least a little.

Michael Benson's book may not be quite the final word on the subject (and his conclusion suggests another particularly comprehensive book from fellow enthusiast and collaborator Dave Larson may be forthcoming), but it is a worthy synthesis of the many diverse existing sources, combined with his own original research and interviews with such important figures as Arthur C. Clarke and Christiane Kubrick.

It eschews excruciating detail in any single aspect but as overviews go, it could scarcely be beaten. This is not to say it lacks depth in its own peculiar way. In fact the lively, anecdote-laden and almost conversational style of prose, sensibly divided in roughly chronological order, in its totality provides a convincing mosaic picture of Kubrick the man and the director, the conceptual evolution of 2001, and of the respectful and fruitful yet tempestuous relationship between Kubrick and Clarke which perhaps only such an approach could have conveyed.

If nothing else, the numerous bizarre anecdotal moments are entertaining in themselves and serve both to humanise the individuals and give the essence of the distinctive time period. There's the testy pre-production dinner with Carl Sagan. 'Moonwatcher' Dan Richter struggling with his legally-regulated drug addiction. Doug Trumbull claiming homosexuality to dodge the Vietnam draft.

The thunderous reaction to England's World Cup win disturbing a long-exposure special effects shot of a miniature. The reluctantly hired gun composer collapsing from exhaustion and being wheeled into the music studio on a gurney to present his music to a director who had no intention of using it. The tea boy Andrew Birkin who took an opportunity to shine and ended up on a ludicrous escapade stealing protected trees in Africa to transport to a shooting location.

You get the picture, and, thanks to Benson, you will also 'get' the picture of 2001 in a way that you never quite have before. I highly recommend it to anyone with an interest in film, in sci-fi, in special effects, in the late 1960s era, or any of a litany of loosely connected subjects.

p.s. The gorgeously shiny first-edition hardcover is a work of art in its own right. Do get your hands on a copy if you're able.

[Darcy · Rating 5 out of 5]

I first saw 2001: A Space Odyssey when I was a youngster back in 1969. It was an incredible experience that had me rushing out to purchase the novel the next day. Since then I have lost track how many times I have seen the movie, how many articles about it I have read, or how many times I have seen programs talking about it. Throw in Arthur C Clarke's book about the making of the movie and I felt pretty confident I knew pretty much all there was to know... Wrong! Michael Benson's book revealed that I had only scratched the surface. Detailing the process, the people, the problems and the passion that took to make this movie he succeeds in crafting a narrative that is compelling and engrossing.

The focus is on Stanley Kubrick and Clarke, but all of the other players get page time. We are led from the initial idea of, "a really good science fiction movie," through the arduous journey to get it on the screen, and ultimately to its reception and final acknowledgement as a classic. 2001 is a movie that still stands up today and after reading this marvelous book my appreciation for it has grown. If you have an interest in how the sausage is made and want to be entertained at the same time, this is the book for you.

[Pat Rolston · Rating 5 out of 5]

As one who is privileged to have experienced the original mass release of 2001: A Space Odyssey I am an ideal candidate for this deep dive into the back story of it’s birth. I am also sure anyone who sees the movie at any time or any age will benefit from the book on multiple levels. It provides insight into what history has deemed an iconic and groundbreaking film and into Stanley Kubrick who is one of the greatest pioneers of film making of all time.


If not aquatinted with the movie then the book’s incredibly detailed account of it’s creation seems overkill for all but the most serious student of film.
Anyone who witnessed the film will find all those moments of awe, mystery, reverence, and profound confusion completely diagnosed in entertaining fashion. Even for those who sought answers in the book by Artur C, Clark will find much to learn in this deep analysis of the making of the movie. I have been inspired to begin reading the biography of Mr Kubrick by Victor LoBrutto to further my education of this genius and master of cinema.

[Erik Olsen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Younger people have little idea how impactful the film 2001: A Space Odyssey was when it first came out. It inspired a whole generation of filmmakers, including major names like Steven Spielberg, George Lucas and James Cameron. The film is visually sumptuous, employing cutting edge special effects, many of which were pioneered by Stanley Kubrick and his team. This book is a wonderful romp through the making of the epic, revolutionary film. It provides so much wonderful detail about Kubrick's obsessiveness, his attention to factual detail and his often-times tyrannical style of directing. I loved every second of it, and went back right after finishing it to watch the film again. Doing so right after reading the book opened my eyes to many details I had missed the first (and second and third) time around watching it. I confess I even learned a lot more about the plot, which was very confusing to me at times. It's an excellent summer read. 

[Alexandre Willer · Rating 5 out of 5]

Que 2001 é um marco do cinema nem é preciso comentar, se esse filme não lhe parece nada demais então certamente há algo de muito errado em ti e sugiro que revise urgentemente sua condição humana.

No mais, o livro de Benson destrincha todo o processo de concepção, feitura e legado de 2001 de forma magistral, sem perder a mão e, longe de querer explicar o filme, lança uma luz esclarecedora sobre como era trabalhar com Kubrick, seu processo criativo, idiossincrasias, manias, defeitos, inquestionável genialidade e como, até hoje, o filme é uma referência e consegue não soar datado e totalmente profético.

Vale demais a leitura!

[Angelo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excelente e detalhado, o livro traz uma nova compreensão sobre o processo de criação de um dos filmes mais importantes da história do cinema, ilustrando a revolucionária arte de Stanley Kubric, abordando também o trabalho de criação do livro homônimo de Arthur C. Clarke, escrito a partir do conto "A Sentinela", durante a realização do filme. Clarke e Kubric idealizaram em conjunto o filme.

[Scott Kardel · Rating 5 out of 5]

For me this is a five star book and I think that anyone that is a fan of the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey, especially those who also have an interest in how films are made, would every much enjoy this book.

[John Jr. · Rating 3 out of 5]

The film 2001: A Space Odyssey made its mark on me in many ways, some less serious than others. At the time I saw it, my friends and I drove manual-transmission cars, and if one of them verged on redlining the engine, I took to saying, “Another gear, please, HAL.” The film’s use of music was so ear-opening that I started attending Stanley Kubrick’s movies in part for the sake of their soundtracks; pieces new to me by composers or performers such as Wendy Carlos, Henry Purcell, Krzysztof Penderecki, and Jocelyn Pook eventually entered my purview as follow-ons to the Aram Khachaturian, György Ligeti, and Richard Strauss pieces I first heard in 2001. The visual experiences it provided were equally astounding, and so were the ideas. That humankind had been guided in its development and would be so again was something I had read in Arthur C. Clarke’s Childhood’s End but not seen, and then there was the notion of a machine that could be conscious, that could kill and be killed.

Though not everyone wants to know the story behind such a story, it’s not an unnatural response. Indeed, films now occupy such a prominent place in Western culture that making-of accounts are now an almost routine feature of entertainment-oriented publications and of the extras on DVD and Blu-ray discs. Many of us are, if you will, in the position of magic-show attendees who love to be enthralled by an illusion but who also want immediately to know how it was pulled off. Whether this is good, bad, or just marketing is something I won’t go into, but there’s no shortage of material for those whose fascination is focused on 2001.

One of the newer additions is this 2018 book by Michael Benson. His acknowledgments and the introduction to his notes section make clear that he employed a vast array of primary and secondary sources, including archives of Clarke’s and Kubrick’s material, private collections, biographies of the leading participants and accounts by them, and a handful of other studies, such as Jerome Agel’s 1970 book, The Making of Kubrick’s 2001 (the only part of this background I’ve read), and two more recent works by Piers Bizony, published in 1994 and 2014. Along with consulting all this material, Benson talked to Clarke himself and to many others who had worked on the film or been involved, including Christiane Kubrick, Stanley’s widow.

The result, which encompasses 444 pages of text plus back matter taking the total to just under 500 pages, is endlessly informative, on matters large and small. Essentially, Clarke and Kubrick got together in 1964 and started hashing out a lot of ideas; some time later, before the story was anywhere near fully developed, they went their separate ways, Clarke to finish writing a novel version and Kubrick to start shooting a film. Amazingly, it all worked out. Benson, taking us through almost every small step and giant leap along the way, tells us how.

Interesting tidbits abound. Clarke and Kubrick, who were consuming books and movies while pursuing their ideas, saw a half-hour black-and-white film called Universe, produced by the National Film Board of Canada (which was, though Benson doesn’t say so, a pioneering if little-known powerhouse of filmmaking), that used paint thinners, inks, and oil paints to generate seemingly cosmic imagery. Intrigued, Kubrick shot extensive tests of the same technique, using 65 mm color film, and some of the results ended up in the Star Gate sequence. The monolith, which is nowadays practically a symbol of the entire film, was originally conceived as a transparent tetrahedron, but a slab was easier to make, and once the transparent slab was built Kubrick realized it didn’t look right; after an offhand remark by production designer Tony Masters, they made it black. A tool that fell off the centrifuge set nearly hit computer scientist Marvin Minsky, an acquaintance of Kubrick’s who was visiting at the time (he had earlier proposed the terms behind the acronym HAL for the computer), and could’ve killed him. The Dawn of Man scenes, which employed a front-projection process using still photos shot in Africa, include glimpses of some spiky-looking kokerboom trees that, at Kubrick’s express request, had been stolen from their natural location and trucked across miles of the Namib desert. The look of the hotel room at the end of the film began with a flooring company, though only the idea of lighting through the floor was kept from that original design; the room’s French style came from another offhand remark by Tony Masters. The Star Child was Clarke’s idea, drawn from a remark by Russian space scientist Konstantin Tsiolkovsky about humankind leaving its cradle. Kubrick went through four different composers but never heard anything he liked as well as the existing compositions he had taken to using as temp tracks while editing.

Unfortunately, Benson’s book contains countless annoyances of wording, reporting, construction, and interpretation. Benson tells us that in 1965, Kubrick and his entire family packed and moved from New York to England, where 2001 was going to be shot at MGM’s Borehamwood facility; Benson doesn’t make clear—maybe the issue is hard to settle—that Kubrick had already in some sense relocated to England (according to another source), for the shooting of Dr. Strangelove, and that he left America for good in 1965. Instead of that historical (and seemingly historic) point, we’re given a poignant detail: Kubrick’s entire personal library was somehow “lost in transit.” Benson repeats himself in praising a set of suggestions Clarke sent in March 1966 but leaves Clarke’s actual points mostly unstated. Benson usually appears to know what he’s talking about, but you can’t always tell. He describes a gears-and-motors technique employed with spaceship models “allowing shots to be repeated with frame-by-frame accuracy”; this is commonly known as motion control, and 2001 pioneered it (judging from another source), but Benson applies the term only to its use in slit-scan effects shots. Though he’s not wrong, he’s not entirely right either; this isn’t the best way to accommodate novice as well as knowledgeable readers. He describes an establishing shot inside the Discovery centrifuge set in a way that’s hard to grasp even if you’ve witnessed it, and he says, “Nothing like it had ever been seen before.” This may be true, depending on what exactly he means by it, but Fred Astaire had danced on the walls and the ceiling for a song in a 1951 film called Royal Wedding, so the effect wasn’t entirely new. Benson doesn’t seem aware that capital-B Brutes are a kind of high-powered lighting fixture (there are also Maxi Brutes and Mini Brutes); when he refers to lowercase-b “brute lights,” the meaning is pretty clear from the context, but he could’ve handled the terminology better. And, though it may sound nitpicky to say so, Benson sometimes fumbles parallelism, possessives, or pronouns and opts for fancy or trendy terms instead of simple ones, such as “replete” (instead of “complete”), “prior to” (instead of “before”), and “couple” (instead of “couple of”).

As far as I can tell, though, almost nothing in the book is actually wrong. The only thing I noticed relates to “Daisy Bell,” the song that HAL sings as his mind sinks into oblivion. This moment was suggested by Clarke, who, judging from most accounts including an official report, had heard an IBM 704 (not a 7094) sing that very song in a demonstration a few years earlier.

In late March and early April 1968, nearly four years after Clarke and Kubrick had begun their work, 2001: A Space Odyssey debuted, at a press preview and then two official premiere screenings, as a 70 mm Cinerama film that apparently ran, according to a Daily Mirror report quoted by Benson, about two hours and 42 minutes. Much audience squirming and walking out accompanied these screenings, and Kubrick soon trimmed nearly 20 minutes from the Cinerama prints, in a collaboration with MGM. The 35 mm release, intended for wider distribution, was presumably edited to match. Benson makes clear that the trimmed version was almost universally better received, and I gather it’s what we see nowadays. But he never says what became of the original cut.

The strength of Benson’s book, if sometimes its weakness as well, is the vast array of personal accounts that he draws on: who said what, or thought what, or did what, at what point, on what subject. Though it sometimes exceeded my interest, the book contains a wealth of detail on the Dawn of Man sequence in particular, from the Namib desert hijinks of Kubrick assistant Andrew Birkin through the endless labors of Stuart Freeborn to devise workable costuming and makeup for the man-apes to the dilemmas occasioned by mime Dan Richter’s status as a legally sanctioned heroin addict. Difficulties in Clarke’s personal and business affairs, also perhaps recounted to excess, remind us that creative work—whether or not it involves outer space—isn’t done in a vacuum. And there’s much more. We learn, among other things, who first heard Ligeti’s music and where (Charleen Pederson, the wife of visual effects supervisor Con Pederson, and Christiane Kubrick, on the BBC), whose voice for HAL Kubrick considered as an alternative to that of Douglas Rain (Martin Balsam’s), and who captured the shot of the bone being tossed into the air (Kubrick himself).

Despite its shortcomings, oddities, and longueurs, Space Odyssey is a valuable and revealing piece of work: it testifies to the collaborative nature of filmmaking but also to the questing, relentless pursuit of their vision by Clarke and Kubrick. Most people who see 2001—leaving aside some critics at the outset—come away feeling it’s a marvel. After reading all the twists and turns of its making, you’re likely to feel it’s even more wondrous.

[Cory · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow this was an incredible read! Michael Benson has written THE book on the making of 2001: A Space Odyssey; this is the book to read if you have any interest at all in the greatest film ever made. Not only that, but talk about a clashing of all my interests into a single story of history. This book covers everything I could want to know about: 2001, Stanley Kubrick, Arthur C. Clarke, general behind the scenes of filmmaking, science fiction, practical visual effects, and my boy Carl Sagan even makes an appearance (even if it wasn’t the most flattering appearance lol). Benson’s style and tone is incredibly readable to the point where I often couldn’t put the book down. Some sections had me in awe, even emotional. It’s a spectacular tribute to the artistry humanity has to offer and to those who deserve more recognition for their contributions to one of the most influential pieces of art ever made.

If humanity ever enters into the galactic federation (or whatever it may be referred to by our cosmic neighbors), I wouldn’t be surprised if our species’ most important cultural contribution is the invention of cinema. What an amazing thing!

[Joseph Frankel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Anyone who admires 2001 and enjoys looking behind the curtain at how movies are made will eat this up. An exhaustive account of the four year process that led to the creation of one of the most singular and visionary artistic achievements of the 20th century. The unprecedented degree to which Stanley Kubrick and his collaborators committed themselves to the project — the abundance of soul-searching, problem-solving, technical innovation, philosophical insight, and business savvy required to complete the project and protect it from outside interference is truly awe-inspiring to read about. One of the 3 or 4 most useful books I have ever read about movies get made.